Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter six

Iris Grace

The Styles are coming for dinner tonight, the only difference about this week's dinner is that we have two extra guests. Harper and Harry. They don't usually come, but I'm pretty sure Harry's dad wants Harper to start going to the business events and Harry doesn't want them to take advantage of her.

Dad made me arrange it all, set the table and all sorts. I didn't mind doing it, I just would have preferred if he had given me more than half an hour to do so. I always feel like such a child when I'm here, it's like my entire family still sees me as fourteen years old.

Due to the lack of time I had to get ready, I just threw on the first presentable item of clothing I found and tied my hair back neatly, pulling a few tray strands of hair forward so I don't look bald. Who do I have to impress anyway? The more unappealing I look to George the better, he might actually leave me alone.

These stupid business meals are the bane of my existence. Every damn week they like to meet up to get drunk and have a meal, talk about business for half an hour and then just throw insults around at anyone, just because they can. They're wealthy men, they can get away with what they want, and I hate it.

By the time I got downstairs, the Styles family were here and sitting in the lounge waiting until Dinner is ready so we could head into the dining room. Nobody acknowledged I had joined the room until I sat down on the empty armchair and Harper waved at me from across the room.

That got Harry's attention, he just looked up at me blankly, making prolonged eye contact that somehow, I just couldn't break. It was intense, and it drowned out the sound of the conversation happening around us. Eye contact is awkward, but not this eye contact. It makes me feel self conscious actually, yet still, I can't seem to tear my eyes away.

"That's dinner ready." My mum called in, finally giving me an excuse to break eye contact.

Slowly, we all spilled into the dining room and of course I gave my mother a hand taking everything through. When everything was through, there was only a seat next to my father obviously reserved for my mother, or there was a seat next to Harper, at the end of the table.

Harry was sitting at Harpers other side, and the two of them seemed to be engaged in their own little conversation. It's actually really sweet seeing how Harper has an older brother who genuinely cares for her. It fills me with such a bittersweet feeling of happiness.

"So Iris, busy day?"  James, Harry and George's father asked me.

And the passive aggressive insults begin.

"Yeah. Today was busy." I answered back politely. "Yourself?"

"Like every other day." He shrugged, placing his knife and fork down so he can drink his wine. "What's a busy day for you?"

"Probably colouring three pictures as opposed to two." Thomas cut in before I could respond, causing the table to start laughing and praise George for his funny little joke which actually really hurt. It shouldn't hurt because I should be used to it, but it does.

I didn't even bother giving my own answer, they were all too concerned with making little jokes about their 'real jobs' and how my busy days are probably the equivalent of a normal person's workload. It's all bullshit though. You can't compare an arts based job to an office based one. That's like comparing a paint brush with a cushion and asking which one is most edible. It doesn't make sense.

Then again, that isn't worth bringing up. It's so much easier to sit and laugh along at the jokes that cut holes in your heart, than it is to argue back and defend yourself. You wouldn't enter a war with no weapons, you wouldn't walk through a pit of vipers with no protection, so why would I put myself in the position to fight a losing battle against my own family?